by Tawny Weber
This was his shot at closure. And with it, the means to figure out what he wanted in life, where he’d gone wrong. And more important, what the hell he was going to do next.
He paused just inside the doorway to assess the conditions. The heavy beat of rock pounded, low and steady, through speakers lining the ceiling. Gray carpet and pale blue walls were an oddly soothing contrast to the grunts and groans of boxers filling three of the four rings in each corner of the second-floor gym. Along one wall were a row of black freestanding floor bags; red leather punching bags hung on the opposite wall.
In between stood Ava.
Damn, she looked good. She’d always looked good to him. He’d appreciated her curves, the welcoming softness of her body when they’d first met. He’d been awed by her during pregnancy, watching the magical growth of her body as she nurtured their son. And he’d appreciated the serene, Madonna-like luxuriousness of her body after Dominic’s birth.
But Ava now? Rippling muscles and gleaming strength were wrapped in spandex and a loose-fitting tee, and, yeah, she looked good. So damned good.
Her hair was pulled back to leave her bare face unframed. Her arms rippled as she demonstrated a punch combination. Then she arched to the side, executing an impressive high kick that made Elijah’s heart beat just a little faster as he considered how that body had felt beneath his.
It was a thought that couldn’t be understated: she looked damned good. After a long, appreciative glance, he shifted his gaze to consider the people with her.
Sixteen people, all in pretty decent shape, took turns either punching or kicking the bags in concert with the moves Ava called out.
“Jab. Left hook. Sidekick. Uppercut. Roundhouse,” she ordered. “Mia, put your shoulder into it. Jack, kick with the flat of your foot, not your toes. Good job—there you go.”
She moved along the line, correcting, adjusting and praising in equal measures. He’d trained with a wide variety of instructors, enough to recognize Ava’s skill. Elijah wasn’t sure if he was more impressed or surprised.
He was still trying to decide when Ava caught sight of him. In the middle of demonstrating a kick-punch-kick combination, her eyes widened. The hitch in her kick was infinitesimal, small enough that he doubted her students caught it. Color washed over her cheeks, sweeping down her throat to disappear into the collar of an oversize red tee that draped temptingly off one shoulder.
Elijah grinned as she straightened, giving him a narrow-eyed look that clearly said, Get lost.
He could have gone. Saved their little confrontation for another time. After all, she was working, and he was a firm believer in the sanctity of work time.
But she added a little shooing motion with her fingers. Like he was a bug. Amusement fading, Elijah squared his hips, planted his feet and crossed his arms over his chest. He really didn’t like being shooed.
“Class, it looks like this is our lucky day,” Ava said after a frustrated sigh. “We have a celebrity in our midst.”
Elijah narrowed his eyes. She knew how he felt about advertising what he did, about taking credit for his role in Special Forces. Even when they’d been married, half of her family hadn’t realized what he did for a living beyond that he was in the Navy. Now she was going to proclaim him a SEAL in a room full of strangers. She wouldn’t. Ava tossed the hair she’d braided into a long rope behind her back and gave him a chilly smile. “This is Mack’s cousin. He’s a SEAL.”
Body tensing, adrenaline surging, Elijah gritted his teeth. She did. Goddammit. She definitely wasn’t the same woman he’d married.
“Now you’ve all heard of SEALs, haven’t you? They’re supposed to be pretty strong. Well trained, the best combat warriors of our times. Famous for their fighting skills.”
Where was she going with this? The sharp look in her eyes assured him that she had somewhere in mind. Somewhere he wouldn’t like.
He ignored the murmurs as the room reacted. He simply watched. And waited. Ava didn’t keep him waiting long.
“You’ve probably all heard about the SEAL fitness requirements. The Grinder Finder. SEAL Fit. SEAL Intensive. Some of the most challenging workout programs created, all based on what we civilians imagine the SEALs PT looks like.”
She moved as she spoke, circling her students and gesturing to emphasize her words. Her gaze locked on Elijah’s as she grabbed the ropes of one of the empty rings and flipped herself over the top in an impressively smooth jump.
“Because of the covert nature of everything SEALs do, we can’t know for sure that their workouts—and the results thereof—are actually worthy of such prestige.” Her smile sharpened. “We can assume they are. Or we can use this opportunity to run a little SEAL fitness test.”
The murmur rose to a buzz as the energy in the room spiked.
Elijah shook his head. He wasn’t going to play.
Ava simply arched one brow as she drew the long braid of her hair into a knot at the base of her neck.
“Now, the fitness of the SEALs is legendary. But what some of you might not realize is that most of them are unable to refuse a dare.”
Even as Elijah gave another infinitesimal shake of his head, he scanned the room to assess which of the guys she planned to pit him against. There were fourteen in total, but only two looked as if they could go more than a half minute in the ring. Never one to underestimate an opponent, he started to give them a thorough study. He’d barely made it past assessing muscle tone and reach when Ava spoke again.
“I think it’s time for a little kickboxing demonstration. So.” She shot Elijah a smile wicked enough to stir quite a few workout thoughts. But all of them required privacy and less clothing. “I dare our guest to step into the ring and help me demonstrate technique.”
He was tempted to remind her that she was already well aware of his technique. Then he realized she was serious.
“You want me to fight with you?” It wasn’t easy to hold back his laughter.
“I want you to partner with me as I demonstrate the kickboxing technique I’ve been teaching,” she corrected, the flash in her eyes making it clear she heard the laughter even if he didn’t set it free.
“Am I giving you a handicap?”
“You wearing a cup?” she asked.
“Good point.”
He didn’t doubt for a second that she’d try to damage the goods she’d enjoyed so thoroughly two nights ago.
“I did mention that it was a dare, didn’t I?” Ava’s smile was more than wicked now. It was filled with laughter.
Elijah remembered a time he’d do anything when she smiled at him like that. Looked like that hadn’t changed. And, of course, there was the dare.
He puffed out a breath. She probably did deserve a few shots. He decided to let her put on a show. He’d go easy, give her a chance to demonstrate a few defensive techniques. Angling between the ropes, he stepped into the ring. And waited.
Ava didn’t keep him waiting long. She did make him suffer once she was there, though.
First, she took her time stripping off the baggy T-shirt, leaving her in body-hugging purple leggings that stopped just below her knees and a black halter-style sports bra that left her rippling abs bare.
Damn, she was hot. Taut, tight and tempting. He’d recently explored every inch of that gorgeous body, but he could see now that he hadn’t given it the reverence it was due.
Elijah wondered if he was supposed to strip, too, but he figured they could hold off on that until they had a little privacy.
She was way more focused on the people gathering around the ring than she was on him. She didn’t even look his way as she outlined fight strategy, tactics for taking on opponents larger than oneself and the importance of limbering up before a match.
Then she started limbering.
There was buzzing again, b
ut it was all in his head this time. But his eyes weren’t glazed over enough to miss the sideways look she shot his way. Then he caught that half smile of hers as she bent in half, pressing her forehead to her knee.
She was playing him.
Ava straightened, bracketing her hand around one wrist and stretching both arms high overhead. The move threw her body into sharp relief, the long lines of it etching the image of pure temptation in his mind.
Psyching him out before the match, figuring he couldn’t see past the layers of lust she was weaving to sidestep a punch. As she dropped her clasped hands straight down behind her back, the move arching her breasts upward and her hips forward, Elijah’s mouth went dry. He had to give her credit.
The psyching out was a damned good plan.
But he was a SEAL.
He was trained by the best to be the best. Through thick, through thin. In battle, in war. He specialized in strategy. He had to admire the skill in which she employed lust as a weapon. And since this was a match, not a battle, he’d meet her on even ground, with equal weaponry.
He’d shoot that lust right back at her. He’d use it against her. He’d wrap her up in it until she was moaning and sweating and begging for mercy.
He’d done it two nights ago.
He could do it now.
CHAPTER TWELVE
“READY?” HE ASKED when she finally wound down with her classroom instructions.
“Are you?” Ava countered with a smile, skimming her fingers down her hips in a subtle invitation before lifting her hands into fighting position.
“Yep. Let’s go.” Feet planted on the mat, he started to lift his hands, then made a show of shaking his head. “Wait. Hang on.”
He stripped his shirt away, his gaze locked on hers as he tossed the tattered cotton over the rope. He liked the way her eyes widened, pupils dilating as she blew out a long, slow breath. From the way her pulse was pounding in her throat, she was just as interested in the view as he’d been.
Good. Now they’d play.
“Mmm, SEAL fit, indeed,” he heard from outside the ring. Ava’s scowl said she heard it, too, and didn’t like it.
Elijah grinned.
“Ready?” Ava snapped.
“For you? Always.”
He didn’t drop into fight position. He wasn’t about to spar with his wife—ex or otherwise.
Ava, obviously not having the same compunction, shifted her weight, bent her knees and lifted her fists.
Fists. Elijah grinned. Seriously?
The first strike wiped his smile away. He yanked his head to the left. Damned if she wouldn’t have clipped his nose if his reflexes hadn’t kicked in.
He blocked the next strike, wrist to wrist. When she spun around, leg high enough that her foot missed his ear by an inch, he got serious.
Not serious enough to take her down. But serious enough to keep her on her very sexy toes. He matched her, punch for punch, pulling his so they barely skimmed her body.
Uppercut, forearm block. Sidekick with his shin to her waist. Even at 10 percent power, the move sent her flying to the side. To cover it, keeping it looking good for her students, he grabbed her arm and pulled her into a flip. One that she easily twisted to her advantage, sweeping his feet out from under him.
Elijah was grinning again. But this time with pride. She was good. Damned good.
He put her through her paces as they sparred for another five minutes. He’d fought a lot of people, from novice squids to spit-spewing militants. He’d rarely found anyone with moves so clean, precise and targeted. He had a good sixty pounds on her, all of it muscle, but she held her own.
Oh yeah, he thought as he jumped to the side to avoid her backhand fist to the gut. She definitely held her own.
Ava executed an impeccable high kick. This time, instead of letting it slide off his shoulder, Elijah grabbed hold. His hand wrapped around her ankle, angling her higher so she had to shift at the waist to keep her balance.
Tiny drops of sweat beaded her brow and the little tendrils of hair around her face curled. Her breath came faster now. All that was missing were the moans.
He didn’t release his hold on her leg. He slid his hand up the taut calf, his fingers teasing the underside of her knee for a second before he wrapped them around her thigh. He was tempted to keep going, but he was aware of their audience.
So he settled for sliding one finger higher, teasing the inside of her thigh. And smiled in satisfaction when she hissed. He used her distraction to sweep her remaining foot out from under her, keeping his grip tight on her leg and the other under the small of her back so when she hit the mat she didn’t even bounce.
He followed her, landing on one knee and the opposite fist. She punched out, the heel of her hand coming within an inch of his nose before Elijah’s hand snapped up, grabbing hers. To ensure she didn’t kick anything important, he wrapped his thigh over both of her legs, holding her in place.
“Draw?” he challenged.
He could see she didn’t want to give in. Damned if he didn’t find that just as sexy as the sweat-slicked, ripped body pressed against his. As if reading his thoughts, Ava arched. Her eyes like molten chocolate, melting with passion, she stared up at him. Her hips nestled against his, challenging the fit of his cup.
Elijah leaned closer. “Might want to lose the audience,” he murmured against her ear.
He felt as much as saw her take a shaky breath and would have taken the time to admire her control if he wasn’t fighting to hold on to his own.
“Draw,” she decided between clenched teeth.
Eyes locked on hers, he waited a couple more heartbeats and then released her hand. He gave himself the pleasure of another second before sliding her legs free. Their eyes held, hers filled with vulnerability that ripped at his heart. She rolled away and to her feet.
“And that’s your demonstration for the day. And proof that the SEALs aren’t kidding when they say they’re the best.”
The rest of her words, her students’ questions, they were simply a buzz in the back of his head as Elijah got to his feet. He wasn’t winded. He hadn’t broken a sweat. But damned if he’d ever put so much effort into a workout.
Feeling numerous eyes on him, he took a moment to give thanks for years of training making his use of a cup automatic, since it shielded most of the evidence of his reaction from her class. Go, Navy. Always coming through for him, he thought with a snicker as he swiped a towel over his face.
His snicker died off when he noted that Ava’s nipples stood in stark relief against the skimpy fabric of her workout bra. He grabbed her tee off the rope and tossed it her way, considering it a show of immense restraint that he didn’t pull it over her head himself.
He might have limited claim but damned if he wanted other men—or women, he was an equal-opportunity ex-husband—staring at her nipples.
Ava didn’t seem to care, since she only rolled her eyes at him as she angled out of the ring.
“Class dismissed,” she said brightly. “Next time, we’ll get you all in the ring to try a few of your own moves.”
There were a few laughs and suggestive remarks shared behind shielded hands, but for the most part, the students simply looked impressed.
Elijah avoided conversation by flipping over the opposite side of the ring and taking up a position next to the door while she wound things up.
He waited as she answered questions, admiring how she reined in the impatience he heard in her voice. He noted the students’ admiration, which didn’t surprise him, and the respect—which he was ashamed to say did.
He wanted to hurry her along, to grab her and drag her out of the room. But this was her gig and he figured it’d be a dick move to do something to dim that respect he’d noted.
So he shifted from
his left foot to his right, then back again. He checked the big clock on the wall, then his body’s reaction. Nope, time wasn’t putting a damper on his erection. It was still firm, and perfectly happy to stay that way as long as Ava’s sexy body was in view.
He wanted her.
He knew she wanted him, too, but she was taking her own sweet time. Another power play, he figured. And a good one, since he was pretty much ready to beg at this point.
* * *
AVA HAD NEVER considered herself much of an actress. So she was amazed and proud that she was able to keep her voice upbeat and even as she wound up class. Her expression was even, as if she wasn’t using every ounce of energy she had to keep her body from melting into a happy puddle of lust at Elijah’s feet.
She wanted to. She wanted him.
For how the hot lust she felt when he touched her. For the needy desire she felt when she looked at him.
She might have been strong enough to fight those, might have been stubborn enough to ignore them.
But the man had respected her enough to face her in the ring. She knew he’d pulled his punches, was pretty sure he wouldn’t even consider that a workout. But he’d met her on her level; he’d given her class one hell of a demonstration. And he’d shown respect for her abilities.
That was why she wanted him naked, she assured herself. Because there was nothing sexier than respect.
As she dismissed her students, she cut a sideways glance toward Elijah, noting the rippling strength of his bicep and shoulder as he wiped his face. Mmm, okay, so maybe almost nothing.
She owed him. And she couldn’t wait to pay. He was obviously getting tired of waiting, though. His impatience—something she’d rarely seen—was at the point that he was pacing a groove in front of the exit by the time the final students left, shooting curious, amused or lascivious looks over their shoulders as they went.
“Sorry about that,” Ava said as she crossed the room, grabbing a towel as she went. “It’s an advanced class, and they pay for a full hour. Since our little demonstration was more for my benefit than theirs, I felt like I owed them some extra Q&A time.”